Praise the Lord, it’s finally over.

My sophomore year of high school has come to a screeching stop.

It is time to bury the hatchet and say farewell.

Farewell to Chemistry, I still don’t understand “significant figures.” Like seriously, why can I not just write the whole number?

Farewell to “The Kite Runner.” I thought I would enjoy reading you more.

Farewell to chapter 19 of AP Euro (The French Revolution). You were the only chapter I really enjoyed and understood.

Farewell to Ms. Flati’s Religion class. I am sorry that every time I walked into the room, I screamed “Is there no rest for the weary?”

Farewell to Spanish II. I still do not understand the difference between preterite and imperfect.

Farewell to Algebra II. Good Lord, I hated factoring.

A very angry farewell to the upstairs bathrooms. Someone was always in there and I can’t go in peace when I’m not alone.

Farewell to the thousands of schedule changes made this year. GOSH, that was confusing.

To the copious amount of Diet Coke I drank on campus: Thank you. You served me well.

A most thankful farewell to the cookies they sell downstairs. You were delicious. Thank you.

It’s a bittersweet thing, to realize that, “Oh my gosh, I’m going to be a junior. I only have two more years!”

I am saying goodbye to a lot of things that I really enjoyed.

I am saying goodbye to the year that made me a Red and Gold captain. The experience that forever changed the way I look at school spirit.

I am saying goodbye to the year that introduced me to countless new friends.

I am saying goodbye to the year of Yerba Mates, chocolate-covered pretzels, 2 a.m. study sessions, re-watching “Pride and Prejudice,” rediscovering my love for reading, and pre-practice naps.

I am saying goodbye to the year of having my braces removed, of figuring out what I want to do with my life, of doing rock collection tours before English class, and of baking a cake for Harry Styles’ birthday.

I am saying goodbye to my favorite class that I’ve ever taken, journalism. Where else am I going to be able to write about Harry Styles and Dolly Parton?

To sum it up: Saying goodbye to sophomore year is hard.

But saying hello to junior year is not.

I have two more years on campus, so you can bet your bottom dollar that I am going to make them my best.

Farewell, sophomore year. Hello, junior year.